


A House Divided

by greysynonyms



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Capture, Cruelty, Elements, F/M, Heartbreak, Kingdoms, Loyalty, Mad King, Maybe eventually slight JoelxReader, POV Second Person, Ryan is super messed up, So much angst, Violence, Weapons that harness elements, mad king au, mentions of abuse, powers, rating may go up in the future, we'll see, who would have guessed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-26 06:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12052914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greysynonyms/pseuds/greysynonyms
Summary: A war between kingdoms is well on its way. Get ready for crumbling friendships, struggles between morally right and wrong, and a whole lot of angst.





	1. Beginning of the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meeting in the woods? Talk of treason? What could go wrong?

       At the center of four kingdoms there was a vast forest of tall, dense trees. Paths that had been created through the terrain were shrouded in darkness by a canopy of leaves, some of which would break loose from their branches with the breeze and flutter gracefully to the ground.

       From the northernmost kingdom walked a man carrying a dim torch in front of himself to guide his way. He squinted despite the light he carried, struggling to follow the path and to not get lost within the trees. He knew far better than to carry anything brighter with him, well aware of the possible dangers that lurked in the forest, especially at this time of year. Though he knew he could be jumped any minute, he held his helmet in the crook of the arm that wasn’t preoccupied—the heavily tinted glass that protected his eyes in the day only hindered his vision further during the night. 

       He was a noble warrior and the right-hand man to King Geoffrey of the north kingdom. A dark blue-grey armor covered the majority of his body and a light green cloak was draped over his shoulders, hood drawn up to conceal his face; his short, burnt-orange hair and the glasses he wore were hidden, but his full beard could not be missed, even in the faint light. The snap of twigs a short distance off alerted the warrior, and his hand immediately lowered to the hilt of his sword, secured at his waist by a red sash. “Who’s there?” he called softly, stopping his movements to better watch and listen.

       “Jack? Is that you, you loon?”

       “Gavin,” Jack sighed in relief at the easily-recognizable British accent. “Watch your feet next time, I thought you were a threat.”

       Gavin gave a sheepish shrug as he emerged from the trees, stepping out into the little circle that was lit by Jack’s torch. “It’s bloody dark in there.”

       “You didn’t bring a torch?” He really shouldn’t be surprised—the kid wasn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to everyday knowledge.

       “But—well, I did! But I fell a ways back, almost burnt down the whole damn place.” 

       Jack just rolled his eyes and continued onward towards the meeting point.

       Gavin was a naïve and carefree young man who had been taken in by King Geoffrey's family when he was very young. He had grown up in the house of Ramsey as a jester, entertaining the king and the people of the kingdom, and, as such, the green jester costume that he wore remained on at almost all times, including now—he considered it a treasure, regardless of the fact that most people saw it as a sign of foolishness. Though some may consider Gavin’s position among the royal house a joke, the king held the man in high esteems, enough to have grown to call him a friend, an honor in and of itself.

       “King Geoff was looking for you earlier today,” Jack warned the lad that followed behind him noisily. “While you have his favor, I suggest not testing his patience.” 

       “I just wanted to see my boy,” his voice was small.

       “Were the king to find out that the man he took into his own home was off visiting another kingdom, visiting the king no less… regardless of the fact they were once friends, he would not be pleased,” Jack said sharply. 

       Gavin opened his mouth, but closed it quickly. He knew Geoff was a kind man, and would never do anything to hurt either himself or Michael, but he also knew that he wouldn’t be able to handle another one of his friend’s leaving him. He’d been there with the king during the nights when his sobs would echo through the long palace hallways. Not that Gavin would ever think to switch alliances anyway, but something in him knew that Geoff was well aware of Michael’s constant attempts to get Gavin to join him in the south. “You’re right,” he finally responded. Before he could try to defend himself though, another snapping twig caught their attention. 

       The snap was followed by a rustle of leaves and the distinct sound of someone falling over. “Owww,” a voice whined nearby. 

       “The other idiot made it,” Jack spoke, hoping the little joke would liven Gavin’s spirits again. He hadn’t meant to upset the young man, but he was also tired of dealing with King Geoff’s worries every time his jester vanished.

       “Yeah, don’t worry guys, I’m alright and everything,” you said as you picked yourself up off the ground and made your way towards the two. “Just got my foot caught on a root, is all.” You had always been rather clumsy, always either tripping over your own feet or someone else’s feet. As you neared the group your attire became visible in the light, and it only took a quick glance to tell what kingdom you had come from. You wore a white blouse with frills at the neck and a black vest over it, tucked into a pair of red plaid pants and a black half-kilt. Over your left shoulder was a beautiful blood-red cape that was held in place by a heavy shoulder-piece made of the polished horn of a bull. You had walked from the northwest kingdom, where you served as a warrior under King Ryan. “I got a little lost in the forest, that’s why I’m late,” you explained embarrassedly. You, like Gavin, did not hold a torch—you had thought you knew the forest well enough by now to make it through. You were wrong. “I see I’m the last one here,” you noted with a small smile towards your friends. “Is this where we’re going to hold this little meeting?”

       “No,” Jack answered. “There should be a small clearing to the west. We won’t have to worry about our torches,” he paused, “well,  _ my _ torch, dying there.”

       As the three of you began to walk in the direction that the bearded man led, Gavin dropped back to walk next to you. “When did you start wearing your hair up?” he asked. While he wasn’t exactly bright sometimes, he was quite observant when it counted. You had always worn your hair down in the past, before everything had fractured.

       “Ah, yes,” you nodded, reaching up and touching your hair where it was pinned into a bun on your head. “This way it won’t get in my way or get cut off if I happen to be attacked.” Even though you had practiced it so many times it didn’t sound even close to authentic.

       Gavin’s hazel eyes glinted in the fire-light from Jack’s torch, some of the playfulness there disappearing. “Well you haven’t gotten any better at lying.”

       You couldn’t deny that your voice had sounded more than a little lifeless when you had responded so you instead sighed. “You _ have  _ always told me that I’m a terrible liar.”

       “Because you are,” Gavin shot back, but his composure quickly softened. “Why is your hair up? You hate having it up, love.”

       “The king doesn’t like it to be down, unless I’m in his presence,” you answered quietly. “And I don’t  _ hate  _ having it up, it’s actually kind of nice every once in a—”

       “ _ That’s  _ the reason?” Gavin sounded affronted. “Really?”

       “He’s a good king,” you said, your voice barely audible now.

       “He’s gone fucking bonkers,” Gavin replied at last. “What even happened to him? He used to be so—”

       “The power got to his head,” Jack said suddenly, surprising the two who had thought they were having a private conversation. The bearded man huffed, “Goddammit (y/n), join another kingdom, any kingdom. Come join us in the north for god’s sake. Or Ray in the east.” He felt like he was pleading now but he couldn’t help the strain in his voice. “You know you’re always welcome at any other kingdom. You’d be safer anywhere than where you are now.”

       “You’re asking to get yourself killed, both of you,” you said harshly, stopping in your tracks and waiting as your friends slowed to a halt around you. “You know that Ryan has rule over the land right now. The last thing you want to do is commit open treason against him—it won’t matter whether or not you were once friends.” 

       “He practically took you as a fucking  _ trophy _ when he took back rule,” Jack pressed. “How are you okay with that?” He kept his voice even despite the blood boiling beneath his skin. He had to play the middle ground here, and tread carefully. While he wanted nothing more than for you to be safe, he also knew how much of a toll these arguments took on you.

       “Ryan is a good man despite what people think. I’ve always stood by his side, since the very beginning of all of this.”

       The bearded man thought he could feel his heart breaking for you. He knew just how much you cared for the man, even now after everything you’d been put through. You were loyal to a fault, always had been and always would be.

       “He  _ was _ a good man,” Jack countered, ever the voice of reason. “Don’t think even for a second that any of us have forgotten what it was like…before.” His voice wavered over the last word, but he took a deep breath and continued. “And we all know that you and Ryan may have always been close, but don’t act like you would be here if—”

       “Please, don’t,” you cut him off, the sadness in your voice tugging at his remaining shreds of humanity.

       Once, a long time ago, there had been four massive kingdoms, each ruled by one of four close families. But then another family had come along, a family who had provided each of the four kingdoms with warm friendship and good advice, and that family had been rewarded with a smaller plot of land that resided between two of the large kingdoms: Achievement City, a kingdom of its own, but so small compared to the vast lands surrounding it that the name ‘city’ had seemed appropriate. And once, a long time ago, only one king had ruled over Achievement City. When that man passed away, his son, Prince Geoffrey, had taken the crown. 

       King Geoffrey ruled for many long, prosperous years and made many allies and friends in the surrounding kingdoms and villages. But for a few bad habits (drinking, _so_ much drinking) he was a good king, maybe even a great king. Above all else the king held his childhood friends, Ryan, Jack, Michael, Ray, and you—a group of five nobles who served as his personal guard after he took the crown—in the highest regards. Eventually Gavin joined the little group, after Geoff's family had taken him in, not as a guard to the king but as a close friend and a source of laughter to remind them all that the bad times would never stay long. The seven friends were rarely ever seen apart after that. Their playful behavior and shenanigans, while at first seen as endearing, quickly began to worry the people of the kingdom, and the demand for reform grew rapidly. 

       The Royal Five, the personal guard to the king, along with the help of Gavin, who became skilled in archery, fended off attacks aimed at their kingdom, most sustaining severe injuries while doing so. However, despite how hard they fought and how many traitors were executed at the king’s feet, the kingdom was much too large for them to handle on their own and the attacks grew constant. 

       The king began to worry for his friends, and for his kingdom. He worried he wasn’t responsible enough to rule such a large land, to protect his people and maintain peace, and the stress ate away at him until he reached his breaking point. 

       A private meeting was called among the king, his jester, and the Royal Five. At this meeting a game was created, a game that would be played every two years. This game, formally known as The Allotment, included a series of challenging tasks set up by King Geoffrey. The rules were simple: his most trusted men would compete amongst one another and whoever could complete four of his tasks first would win the crown, and with their victory they would obtain a piece of his land for them to rule. 

       He had once thought that it was a good idea, that splitting the land between rulers would not only give his people a choice, but that it would alleviate some of the stress from his own shoulders as well. Now he could think of himself as nothing but a selfish prick.

       Six years, three games. The first game won by Ryan, the second by Ray, the third by Michael, cutting Achievement City into quarters. 

       One kingdom had been divided, and the four kings ruled over their own separate divisions. It was after the second game that King Burnie, ruler of the massive northern kingdom, decided that he didn’t like that the land that was given to Geoff’s family was being split smaller and smaller as the years went by. He couldn’t take back rule from the men who had won the games without declaring a war, but he was powerful enough to decree what he called a ‘Supreme Rule.’ Under the new law, the king who won the game last would have ‘supreme rule’ of the land, his authority above all else. It was a way to keep the small kingdom whole while also maintaining the rules that Geoff had put in place with the games. With the law in place, the rule would shift from king to king every two years; so before the people could begin demanding change, a new era would take over. This method had worked for several years, as each king had a unique style of ruling, and while they ruled at separate times they still worked in tandem with one another, supporting each other’s causes and lending help when it was needed.

       However, stress soon returned and the friends were pinned against one another. The people of the kingdom chose sides rather than accepting each individual ruler, and they would move to the region they thought was under the authority of the most capable king. This sprouted jealousy among the four, as each thought they were better fit for the role; as this jealousy rooted further into their hearts the friendship and unity among the seven died. 

       Now, after the fourth game, Ryan had won the crown again. 

       The rein of the “Mad King”, a name lovingly bestowed upon Ryan by his subjects, was ruthless. Cattle were slaughtered, sacrificed, and given as tribute to the king, and families and friends were torn away from one another by his decree. His subjects were often pinned against each other for his entertainment, forced to fight to the death in front of him or face public execution. However, though the people lived in fear under his rule, it was undeniable that the kingdom remained in prosperity under King Ryan. The state of wealth of the entire kingdom was boosted and the people were free from famine and war under his rule.

       You frowned and looked around at the faces of your friends. The three of you were all that was left of the seven friends, forced to meet in secret in a forest. Even now, when you were together like you had once been, it was never the same. 

       The game would commence tomorrow. Ryan’s two-year rule would end and someone else would take the kingdom on their shoulders. You were ashamed to find yourself hoping that one of the crowned kings won again, but losing one of the only two uncrowned friends you had left was a thought far more painful. 

       You wouldn’t have to worry about being pulled away from anyone, that is, more than you had been by the splitting kingdom, as women were not allowed to compete in the games. Once a king took his throne he could appoint a queen, as Michael had done with Lindsay, but a king was first mandatory to rule over the land. It was as it always had been and always would be.

       Not that you were too worried about you friendship with any of the kinds splintering; no, you had been through worse after the fall of your first kingdom. You had lost one of the only men you had ever truly cared about, and it had irreparably broken your heart. If your friendships could survive that, they would continue to survive no matter how difficult things got. At least, that’s what you hoped. You had made it out of _ that _ situation stronger and you had thought that nothing would be harder—you were beginning to learn that a slow descent into mayhem was worse than an immediate downfall.

       “Here will do,” Jack’s voice cut through the silence of the forest. 

       The small group stood arm to arm to arm in the clearing, creating a defensive circle, standing close enough to whisper to one another, all three of them tense and ready for battle should they be attacked. 

       “So,” you spoke after you had stood silently for a few minutes. “The game begins tomorrow.”

       “Do you have any idea what Ryan is planning?” Jack asked, always the one to cut to the chase.

       You frowned, “That is a private matter for the king, though I have heard him chuckling to himself far more often recently. Whatever tasks he had planned, they won’t be easy.”

       “Damn,” Gavin cursed. “It would be easier to plan if we knew what the knob was up to.”

       “It would be easier to plan if there were more of us,” Jack interjected.

       “Is Lindsay coming tomorrow?” you asked quickly, before the severity of Jack’s words could sink in and dampen the mood further.

       “Of course. She’ll be helping Michael,” Gavin answered matter-o-factly. 

       “What about you, (y/n)?” Jack leveled his gaze on you. 

       “As soon as I can get away from King Ryan I’ll be free to help anyone I can. Though… I have a feeling he knows that, and because of that he’ll set up the tasks in a way that makes it difficult for me or Lindsay to help…”

       “What do you mean ‘difficult for you to help’?” Gavin inquired, cocking his head in his confusion. “How could he stop you from helping?”

       “You can’t forget, either of you, that this is his second ruling,” you began. “Now that he knows the limits of all those competing, after fighting alongside and against each of you in the previous games, he’ll do whatever he can to sabotage each and every one of you.”

       “Even if he does do that, and I don’t doubt that he will, it’s not as if he can stop one of us from taking the throne from him. The game was created for the purpose of shifting the power,” Jack countered.

       “Yes, but he does have the means to heavily sway the chances of victory towards whom he wishes. His limits as king are almost endless, and just because no other has dared tamper with the purity of the games before doesn’t mean he won’t.”

       “You don’t think he’d do it, do you?” Gavin asked incredulously. 

       You cast your eyes down, disgusted by your disappointment in your own king. “Unfortunately, I do.”

       “And just who would he be tipping the game in favor of?” Jack asked, placing a comforting hand on your arm.

       “I would assume Ray,” you said honestly, digging your nails into your palms until you could feel your own blood trickling between your fingers—you were speaking words against your king; you were committing treason. “He wouldn’t want either of the two of you to win because that would mean dividing the kingdom further. Geoff is the last person King Ryan would want to take over, as their means of rule are completely opposite. So that leaves Ray or Michael. Which means we need to help the other three as much as possible.” You left out the part about Ryan wanting to make closer connections with Ray should he win. You knew that your king’s eyes were set on claiming the fields of roses for his own, but you didn’t think it was information that would help presently.

       “We’ll do wot’ we can to help them, then,” Gavin nodded in understanding. 

       “The sun will be setting soon,” Jack informed. “Unfortunately time was not on our side tonight; it would be suspicious if we got back too late. Is there any further information that needs to be addressed?” The three looked between one another in silence, each face set in an unreadable expression. “This is it, then. Until the game begins tomorrow.”

       Without any further words you lunged at Gavin, hugging him tight. “Be safe, you oaf,” you teased half-heartedly, ruffling Gavin’s unruly hair as you pulled away. “I’ll be nearby to help if you need me tomorrow.”

       “Ah, you know me, love. Always getting into trouble,” he returned with a small smile, trying to keep the mood as light-hearted as possible. 

       You squeezed him even tighter as he began to let go, not yet ready to say goodbye. “Just…make sure you’re careful, alright?” you let your arms slip from around him and met his eyes.

       He gave you a boyish grin that didn’t reach his eyes, and nodded.

       You moved to hug Jack then, and once again you wished each other the best for the game, giving each other bittersweet smiles and broken little laughs that echoed through the darkness of the forest.

       “We’ll see you out there,” Gavin said as they all stepped away from one another, prepared to head back to their kingdoms. “I’ll be the handsome one with the bow. You won’t be able to keep your eyes off me.”  One more glance was cast between each friend, and then they went their separate ways. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooooooh! I really love this story, guys. 
> 
> Also, this was originally written in third-person and I'm switching it over to second as I go. Please let me know if you catch any mistakes!
> 
> Enjoy!


	2. Useful Information

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Images of a map of the lands and character outfits for the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I drew these to go along with my story. The map because I kept forgetting where I put what kingdoms, and the character designs because I felt like it. From top to bottom, left to right: Geoff, Jack, Gavin, Ryan, Michael, Lindsay, and then Ray.


	3. A Meeting in the South

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Lindsay hear word of what took place in the forest.

       The messenger arrived back at the gates of the southernmost kingdom just as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. He had been tasked with the duty of tailing Gavin after he left the palace and had been given two jobs: to keep the jester safe and to spy on any conversations he had along the way. While he was wary of what the king would ask of him—he was doing his best to remember every detail as vividly as possible—he also felt at ease. A great deal of the respect that he harbored for King Michael was due to him being a strict yet reasonable man. He had a bit of a temper, yes, but with Queen Lindsay there to talk him down the two were almost unstoppable…that is, until something flared the queen’s temper as well.

       The guards at the gate let him through without question, having seen the symbol of the king’s messenger that was inscribed into the hood and cape that he wore to conceal his identity. He entered the grand hall of the palace through a pair of massive, ornate, wooden doors. 

       Michael’s palace was beautiful, made almost entirely of polished wooden structures and other natural materials, along with some granite and jewels here and there, of course. His throne sat at the end of the hall, beyond the long, royal-blue carpet in the center of the floor and rows upon rows of armor-and-fur-covered guards, all at the ready with spears and swords. Behind the throne were two sets of doors that led further into the palace. He, like many others who visited the palace, had never seen what lies behind those doors.

       “I see you’ve returned,” Michael spoke calmly from his throne, where he sat leaning against one of the armrests, his chin in his hand. It was amazing to see the difference the past eight years had had on the man. As the one trusted messenger to the king, he had watched with his own two eyes as the young king slowly matured and lost the childish edge that had once won so many over. His boyish charm was gone, replaced with harder, more masculine features. His hair was still cut at a medium length and curly, and the splatter of freckles across the bridge of his nose hadn’t faded, but his dark eyes were darker now, sadder. 

       The messenger approached his king, the throne he sat upon looking like a beautiful tree behind him, branches twisting intricately from the top and sides, glistening jewels of sapphire embedded in pieces of the wood. He wore armor of fine leather decorated with patterns of gold, and silken furs hung over his shoulders and trimmed his boots and cape. “My king,” he kneeled before him, bowing his head.

       “I’ve told you before that you don’t have to be so formal,” he spoke, but the man continued to kneel, knowing his place when in the presence of royalty. Michael had said those words to men in the past who had lifted themselves from the ground and spoke to the king like they were equals, and then been struck down when they overstepped their bounds. The king’s demeanor softened when the messenger remained kneeling, knowing that the man he trusted with such important tasks still respected him. “What’d you learn? Don’t leave anything out, with the games beginning tomorrow I can’t be too cautious.” 

       The messengers felt the tension in the room, felt the eyes of the guards on his back, and, more importantly, the eyes of his king and his queen on his face, searching intently for any signs of deceit. 

       To the right of the king, in a throne fused to his like trees intertwining, the queen spoke. “Where did Gavin go when he left the palace?”

       “He met with two others in the forest, my lady.”

       There was a rustling, and then the feet that he stared at moved, got closer to him until he knew that his king was standing before his kneeling frame. Michael dropped to his knees and took hold of his shoulders, dipping his head so that he could see his face more clearly. “Who did he meet out there?”

       The messenger swallowed thickly, he had never been so close to the king before. He hadn’t realized the severity of the situation—that the king could be thinking that his best friend may betray him. He had to choose his next words carefully lest he spark Michael’s anger. “He met with the warrior Jack, from the north, sire.”

       “Who else?”

       He felt fresh sweat blooming on his forehead.

       The king’s grip on his shoulders hardened, “Who?”

       The messenger took a few breaths, the silence deafening as he cleared his throat to answer. He knew that the next name would spark further worry. “The warrior (y/n), from the northwest.”

       There was a long silence. “And Gavin, how was he? How did he act during their meeting?” Michael asked, and, for a moment, he sounded like a lost child looking for someone to lead him home. He sounded scared, terrified even, and the messenger dared not look into his eyes. It all made sense now—of course he would fear anyone’s allegiance with the Mad King, but if he had been betrayed by the man who he called his best friend…

       “He acted no different than usual,” the messenger began, relief flooding through his chest when the grip on his shoulders lessened. “They spoke as friends, but they all hold their own beliefs about who should rule.”

       Michael stood then, regaining his kingly composure. “He sounded ready for the game?” His voice still betrayed him; the relief in the freckled-king’s words was heart-wrenching. 

       He nodded slowly. “He seemed fairly confident.” He had thought the king was worried about his friend betraying him, but he was starting to believe that Michael’s only worry was his friend’s safety during tomorrow’s games.

       Lindsay stood from her throne suddenly, elegant black and white gown floating behind her with an invisible breeze as she descended the stairs towards her husband and the messenger. As she hit the last step she motioned to the guard with her hand and, one by one, they filed out, leaving the three alone. “What happened at this meeting?” the queen urged. She knew her husband feared for his best friend, she couldn’t help but worry for Gavin herself, but if he had met with two others in the middle of the forest it meant that they had been discussing the events that would take place tomorrow.

       The messenger finally raised his eyes, casting his gaze between the king and the queen. “They were discussing mostly strategies and how to help one another. They all know where each other’s loyalties lie, but they want to help one another however they can regardless.”

       “Did you learn anything of importance?” Lindsay asked hopefully, her hand subconsciously reaching across to grasp Michael’s.

       “It sounds as though King Ryan has kept most everything relating to the game a secret from his warrior. Either he knows that she isn’t entirely loyal to him or she didn’t provide the others with everything she knew.” He paused for a moment, his gaze dropping to the royal blue carpet beneath his feet. “From what I could hear, you’ll need to be careful tomorrow, sire.”

       “What do you mean?” Michael asked, casting a wary glance to Lindsay.

       “It sounds as though King Ryan is planning on shifting the competition in favor of who he wants to win. (y/n) explained that her best guess would be him tipping it in favor of either you or King Ray, sire. Something about how splitting the land further would just anger him, and how King Geoff’s rule is the last he would wish for.” He had grown pretty good at reading body language over the years, and he remembered the way the woman’s face had immediately dropped once she had turned away from her friends. “I think that there was more she wanted to say, but she never did.”

       “Fuck,” Michael cursed. “Of course she didn’t.”

       “Shifting the competition?” Lindsay echoed the previous words. “That’s impossible…he can’t do that, can he?”

       Michael clenched his jaw, “As the king, he can do whatever the fuck he wants.” 

       “She said he will likely try to sabotage everyone in whatever way he can, as well.” The messenger met his king’s eye, the man he had served under for so long. “Please, your grace, be careful tomorrow.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing bits with Michael makes my heart ache. I just feel like he would be so worried about Gavin if all of this was happening.


	4. A Meeting in the North

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geoff, Jack, and Gavin have a little rendezvous.

       Around the same time that the messenger returned to his kingdom’s palace, Gavin and Jack approached the king of the northernmost kingdom. 

       King Geoffrey had built his palace out of smooth stone and dark marble at the peak of a hill. The interior was all dark colors, differing shades of blacks, greys, blues, and greens, though the amount of large windows that lined the walls made up for the darkness. The men kneeled before their king, his throne made of sharp cuts of black marble, both beautiful and menacing at the same time. Their king was the oldest of the group of eight, though it only showed in his eyes, a deep tiredness swirling along with the crystal blue hues. His crown tamed the majority of his unruly brunette hair, and the military-green armor that covered his body hid the many tattoos he had on his arms and chest and legs. 

       “You found Gavin,” Geoff commented conversationally. 

       “I apologize, my lord,” the jester spoke formally. “I was in the forest, hunting to practice my aim. I didn’t think you’d be looking for me.”

       “Is this true?” the king addressed the red-headed man.

       “Yes, sir, it is,” Jack lied with a stiff nod. “When I found him and told him just how far he had wandered off, he seemed surprised.” 

       “You didn’t run into anyone in the forest?” Geoff inquired again, turning his eyes on the young man this time, piercing the boy who owed him his life with his gaze. “No one… from another kingdom, maybe?” He was more perceptive than either of them gave him credit for, and he knew he’d called their bluff when he saw their shoulders tense up. “Lying to the king is a capital offense, you know,” he added on, just for the hell of it. The silence that ensued had him nodding. “I thought so, boys.”

       “You’re right,” Jack admitted after a pause. His gaze was unwavering, his eyes locked with his king, his friend for many years, knowing somewhere deep within himself that Geoff would never choose his duty over their friendship. 

       “I know,” he said simply. “Who the fuck did you meet with?” There was no anger or suspicion in his tone, simply the cocky attitude the man always sported.

       “(y/n).”

       Geoff looked surprised at the mention of name —he had expected Michael, what with Gavin having gone missing, but the true answer came as a shock. “And what did you talk about?”

       “We got as much information out of (y/n) about tomorrow as we could.”

       The king shifted in his throne, “How?”

       “She was willing to speak with us about what she knew, at least some of what Ryan has planned for tomorrow, but I think she may have been holding some stuff back. She did tell us that you and Gavin and I all need to be prepared, though.” 

       “Prepared for what?” Geoff stiffened a bit at the information. He had watched a close friend of his descend into madness, a madness created by the power surge that Geoff himself had given him. He felt responsible—responsible for Ryan, responsible for the group of seven splitting apart. It was a weight that he alone carried on his shoulders, something that no words of reassurance could ever help.

       “She said that Ryan may have plans to purposely make the three of us lose the game and that he will do whatever he can to sabotage all of us.” 

       “He’s gone absolutely bonkers,” Gavin added in. “(y/n) said that she intends to help us as much as she can, but she fears that Ryan will try to stop that as well,” he went on, hoping that it would help the king, in some way, knowing that he still had friends who cared for him.

       “That motherfucker,” Geoff cursed under his breath. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that this would happen one day, that one of the players would find a way to manipulate the game. He never would have guessed at the beginning that it would have been Ryan. 

       “Our first priority tomorrow will be getting everyone as far away from him as possible, and that includes (y/n),” Geoff said. “That son of a bitch is dangerous and I don’t want to see anyone getting hurt. As for strategy, you know the drill. Fend for yourselves. I can take care of myself out there. Big bad Ryan doesn’t scare me.”

       Gavin and Jack looked from one another to their king apprehensively, and then nodded their agreement. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geeeooooffffff ):
> 
> This chapter is a little shorter, sorry!


	5. Introduction to the Mad King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mad King wants to know where your allegiance lies.

       You were surprised to find no guardsman inside the palace of the northwest kingdom. You had returned just as the last rays of sun disappeared into the night, nowhere near late enough for the king to call off the second shift. The halls were completely empty where guards usually stood; in fact, you hadn’t seen anyone at all since you had entered the gate. A strong feeling of nervousness swept over you, making you slightly dizzy for a moment, forcing you to stop walking. 

       Ryan’s palace was arranged in a way that had anyone who wished to see him walking through a series of guarded and booby-trapped halls, the throne-room being on the far end, opposite the entrance. It was a massive structure, built of sturdy, grey stone on the outside and gleaming white granite on the inside. Along every hall there were large windows and elegant paintings that the king had collected over the years, as well as glass showcases filled with the findings of his annual hunts—animal skins and furs and horns and claws, gemstones and golden pieces of a wide variety. 

       As you approached the throne room you were shocked and unnerved to find no guards waiting outside to allow admittance to see the king. Taking a moment to calm the erratic pace of your heart, you pushed one of the large doors open just enough to squeeze inside. 

       The king was alone in the room, sitting on his throne made of gold and fine red material and the bone and keratin of horns, his head resting lazily against his hand. A small smile split across his features as he watched you, blue eyes gleaming with unknown intent. You took a visible breath and approached him slowly, your eyes never lifting to meet his. “Ah,” Ryan stopped you as you went to kneel, and, for the first time, you looked up.

       “My king?” you questioned. 

       He stood, descending the stairs to meet you, and you looked down once more. He was elegant in his movements, like a true king, and you had to think hard to remember times before this. Ryan was the second eldest of their group and also the strongest, his chest broad, the muscles in his back and arms sticking out against the fabric of his clothes when he didn’t wear his armor. He may not have been as powerful as Mogar—a nickname that Michael had picked up in his years of fighting—in battle, but he was certainly a force to be reckoned with. His silver and black armor glimmered in the light from the hanging chandeliers as he approached you, his long red cape trailing down the steps behind him.  “(y/n),” he spoke, lifting his hand to gently pull at the horn that your hair was wrapped around. “Where were you this evening?” 

       “I went to the forest, my king,” you answered as your hair fell from its bun, landing about your shoulders and arms.

       “What business did you have there?” he asked, twirling the horn in his hand, the accessory quickly turning to something far more deadly in his grasp. 

       “A simple walk,” you lied. 

       There was a soft chuckle, “You know I hate it when you lie to me.” Before you could respond a large hand wrapped around your wrist, lifting your arm. The king eyed the marks and dried blood on your palm that your nails had left. “Such a careless girl… What did you tell them?” 

       Your wide eyes met his, the ocean blue dark and menacing. “I…” 

       Ryan smiled again, just the smallest, most menacing upturn of his lips. “I’ve been very careful to hide my plans from you for this very reason,” he spoke, turning around and clasping his hands behind his back. “Do you not like this palace, (y/n)? Are you not pleased with the home I’ve given you?”

       “No, it’s not that! I just—” The panic was setting in now, swimming faster through your veins as your heart-rate spiked. Ryan wasn’t always so threatening towards you, in fact, though you knew your friend’s would deny it to the ends of the earth, there were long period of time when you would feel no fear toward him at all. Outside the king was seen as a lunatic but behind granite walls you knew he was different. You had stayed with him for both of his rules, for four long years where you’d been with him through his breakdowns and his meltdowns. The latter you feared—you could handle a sad Ryan, but an angry Ryan was downright terrifying. And when it came to the end of his rule, Ryan became very angry.

       His voice snapped you from your thoughts. “What will you do tomorrow?” It was a calmly asked question, but the meaning behind it was substantial.

       “What do you mean?”

       He turned back around, smile no longer gracing his features. “You know well what I mean.” 

       “You… are my king,” you whispered in answer, but the uncertainty in your voice could not be masked. 

       “You’ve betrayed your king today.”

       You flinched. 

       “And now, you will tell me what you told them,” he spoke, lifting your face with a finger under your chin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I heart the Mad King.
> 
> Ryan Haywood will be the death of me.
> 
> Maybe of you too?


	6. Lonely Gardens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray contemplates life, loss, and loneliness.

       Far off, in the easternmost kingdom, King Ray stood at the center of his gardens, looking around sadly at the withering flowers. His palace was large, extravagant, made entirely of beautiful white marble and the finest gold and red fabrics. Though, as magnificent as his palace was, it was nothing compared to his gardens. Massive fields of ruby-red roses that spread as far as the eye could see, maintained with utmost love and care. Now, as the game neared and the cold weather settled upon the land, the petals began to fall, fluttering away with the wind to create a red rain among the kingdom.

       He loved his kingdom, he loved the beauty of his gardens and his palace, and he loved the people who chose to live under his rule. But he was so _fucking_ lonely. Everyone had someone: Geoff still had Jack and Gavin by his side, Michael ruled with Lindsay beside him, and no matter how fucked up the relationship between Ryan and (y/n) was, it was still a relationship. He was the only one of the seven who was alone now, and he was reminded of it every night at times like this. Times when he would, at one point so long ago, be gathered around a large table, at the butt of his friends jokes but still surrounded by _friends_ and not just vastly empty fields.

       Ray leaned down and gently plucked one of the full roses, holding it up to his face to smell the fragrant flower. He was the youngest of the kings, one of the youngest of the entire group, and he heard constantly of how naïve he was in his rule. He sighed, tucking the stem of the rose into his gold-trimmed jacket. He never wore armor, as the other kings did, one of his many traits that people spoke of. Instead he stuck to a nobler ensemble with a black suit and a deep red cape.

       It hurt knowing that tomorrow, once again, he’d be fighting his friends. The friends that he rarely saw anymore, six faces that he longed to see again. In the beginning the game had sounded like a good idea—a chance for him to show off the skills he had honed. He had been unprepared for what was to come, unprepared for the dividing of trust and friendship. Years spent laughing and joking had become years spent in solitude, waiting for the next game with equal eagerness and terror to see the familiar faces.

       “We can’t keep doing this to ourselves,” he muttered to his gardens. He wouldn’t be able to survive if they continued on this way. His chest already ached like he’d physically lost pieces of his heart.

       He sighed and plopped to the ground in the center of his vast fields of roses. He wished that he could see his friends right now. He missed Geoff and his tattoos and the ridiculous amount of alcohol he consumed and his ‘I-don’t-give-a-fuck’ attitude. He missed Gavin and his idiotic behavior that always got everyone to laugh and smile and the way he would always call out X-Ray and Vav. He missed Jack and his fatherly, insanely protective, and loving behavior. He missed Ryan and his sarcastic-but-always-smart comments and the way he raised his eyebrow and the R-and-R Connection. He missed (y/n)  and the smile she always had on her face. And, maybe more than anyone else, he missed Michael and the bond they had formed and the way they just clicked and worked so well together. 

       At least he would be seeing them tomorrow, he supposed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ray being alone breaks me and I hope it breaks you too.
> 
> I also hope you're enjoying the story so far!


	7. Let the Games Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone gathers in the court in preparation for the games. Heartbreak ensues.

       You sat on the arm of the large gold and red throne in the center of the Royal Court, directly to Ryan’s right. You looked around the court, the arena where the game always began, at the walls that surrounded the throne in the center, built tall so that no outsider could look in. 

       Ray was the first to arrive, stepping slowly through the gates and onto the burning turf of the court. He kneeled before the throne in greeting, bowing his head before the reigning king.

       You looked to your king with pleading eyes, sighing in relief when the man smirked and waved his hand dismissively. You took the stairs down from the throne in twos, just about tripping and falling once or twice on the way. You came to an abrupt stop in front of Ray, as if afraid he would shatter into pieces if you jumped at like you wished to. 

       “Well come on then,” Ray said, opening his arms wide and catching you as you leapt forward to hug him. He swung you in a circle before setting you on your feet, though he kept his arms wrapped around you and squeezed you tightly. 

       “It’s good to see you,” you muttered quietly, so that only he could hear. 

       “You should stop by sometime,” he joked in reply. “I could show you my gardens, we could blaze it up.”

       You smiled sadly at the joke, one that Ray had used to make all the time even though he was the cleanest cut of them all. “You know I can’t.”

       “Whoa, whoa, what am I walking in on here?” a familiar voice asked, dripping with playful sarcasm. Michael grinned at both of you, his expression wavering slightly when he caught eyes with Ray as you looked over. “I’d ask if you switched alliances, (y/n), if not for the ugly fuckin’ horn in your hair.”

       You chuckled as you moved to the freckled king and hugged him tightly. You let go of Michael and stepped up to Lindsay, the two of you embracing and chatting idly for a moment while Michael approached Ray. You watched out of the corner of your eye as they spoke no words to each other and hugged briefly. Your fists tightened at your sides--you wanted to tell them to get over themselves, to hug and talk to each other like you knew they _ wanted _ to, that soon they would be fighting each other and it would be too late, but you bit your lip hard and kept your mouth shut instead. They were both too prideful.

       The initial excitement of seeing one another soon simmered down and Michael and Lindsay kneeled before Ryan to greet the king, both grimacing as they bowed their heads after witnessing the smile on the man’s lips. Afterwards everyone stood in silence on either side of the red carpet leading to the throne, sometimes catching each other’s eyes and quickly glancing away. Before you would have been laughing and chatting, now, when you looked at one another, all you saw was sadness, regret, and betrayal.

       At last, late, as always, Geoff, Gavin, and Jack arrived.

       Gavin immediately greeted Michael, the two of them hugging and smiling just as they had before the kingdom had been divided, the worries and fears and loyalties vanishing for just a moment, a quick flash, as the friends embraced one another. 

       Jack went to Ray, the two of them clasping hands in a strong handshake before Jack caught the younger man’s shoulder and pulled him into a hug. Jack had, quite possibly, been affected by the events of the group breaking more than anyone. Not only was he forced to choose between his friends, but he was also forced to watch as his  _ best friend’s _ mental health continued to decline as he blamed himself for everything. He treasured every single moment that he got to see the people he loved who he couldn’t see anymore, even if they were technically supposed to be enemies right now.

       Geoff approached Lindsay, smiling down at her in his usual nonchalant manner. She felt her chest tighten up when she saw that smile. Of all her friends, Geoff had changed the least over the years. Her eyes saw a rival, but her heart saw that same man—a leader, and a friend among friends who loved every single one of them with everything he was. When he drew her in for a hug she wrapped her arms around him and returned the gesture, hoping that the action would convey what words never could.

       “It’s good to see you,” he spoke with a smile in his voice. “Everything is well, I assume?”

       “As well as it can be,” she answered truthfully. “I always _ hate _ this time of year… it almost seems like everything is back to normal and then…”

       “It never is,” Geoff finished for her. For the first time, something wavered in those blue eyes.

       “Well go on,” she suddenly nudged the man in the direction of you. “She’ll go nuts if you don’t say hi.” She smiled sadly as she watched him go, slowly making her way back towards Michael’s side. She carefully cast her eyes in Ryan’s direction but found that the king’s gaze was not on the commotion taking place in front of his throne but instead on the vast forest that grew just outside the gates of the Royal Court—if possible, the bad feeling she had growing in the pit of her stomach grew even worse. 

       Before Geoff could reach you your vision was obscured by a green-clad chest. “Hello, love,” Gavin smiled down at you. He let his eyes waver to one side, looking to Ray where he stood beside you and then back to you. 

       “I think he was talking to me,” Ray whispered, and then gave Gavin a little wink.

       The British man smiled widely at his friend, literally jumping up to hug him and almost barreling Ray over in the process. 

       Watching the two of them brought a strange sort of painful happiness to your heart. You were starting to believe that Ray had forgotten how to smile genuinely. 

       “Are you ready?” Gavin questioned, standing in front of you once more.

       You hadn’t noticed when Ray had left your side to go greet Geoff. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” you answered, smiling softly while you watched the friends from afar. “Are you?”

       “Top,” he nodded, his small smile blooming into one of confidence. “I’m feeling good about this one.”

       It was like a punch in the gut and you couldn’t tell whether you were happy or sad as you looked up at the man. Gavin had grown so much since the games had begun. Of course he was still that lovable idiot who you had become instant friends with back when, but he was wiser now, less naïve, and his hazel eyes were no longer filled only with happiness; it broke your heart to see the sadness in those eyes. Gavin was never supposed to be sad. “I’m not sure how to feel,” you replied finally. You hesitate for a moment, vivid memories of the punishment you received for betraying your king flashing in your mind. You choose to speak your mind regardless, “I don’t trust him, not at all.”

       Gavin was surprised to hear the words from your mouth and swiftly glanced up, relieved to find that the king’s eyes were not on the two of you. “I can’t imagine he’d be too horrible. It’s still Ryan up there,” he reasoned, maybe more for your sanity than his own.

       You nod in solemn agreement before moving to stand off to the side of the court, smiling as you watched everyone interact, almost as if they weren’t about to battle each other for power, almost as if they hadn’t torn each other apart. 

       “It’s nice, huh?” a voice asked from your right. “Fuckin’ pretending to be friends after everything.”

       “I’d like to believe it’s not pretending,” you sighed, leaning over just enough to bump your shoulder into Geoff’s arm. 

       The man smiled and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side. “I would too. It’s nice, seeing everyone back like this.”

       A deep voice suddenly called attention to the court and everyone slowly lined back up on either side of the carpet, reluctant to leave one another. Everyone watched, with some amount of apprehension, as the king extended his arm towards you in beckoning and you ascended the stairs to meet him, taking his hand and allowing him to lead you back to your previous spot at his side. It was frightening how it looked almost natural to have one of their friends sitting at the Mad King’s side.

       “I would like to make something clear before we begin this little game,” Ryan began, pausing to watch the apprehension flicker across each and every face. “In my personal experience, I believe that past games have been made a little too easy by the use of elements. So, for this game, I ban all five competitors from using theirs at all—if they should disobey my command they will be disqualified.” 

       “Isn’t that unfair?” Lindsay protested. “We’ve all learned to fight using strategies that rely on our elements. Taking them away is a huge disadvantage for anyone competing.” 

       The name ‘elements’ was a term given to a special ability that only chosen warriors received. It was unknown why someone was picked or when they would be picked, but the chosen were celebrated widely throughout the kingdoms, hailed as something that transcended the realm of normal fighters. The only downside to elements was that their raw power could easily destroy a human from the inside out. Because of that specific weapons were crafted out of a special kind of metal that had been found deep in the depths of the ocean. Each chosen warrior would be granted a unique weapon that was able to harness the energy of their element safely, and then they would begin their training to master their new ability.

       “I’m not taking yours away from you,” the Mad King replied sharply, blue eyes narrowing on the red-headed woman. “You bare no disadvantage at all, unless you would rather I strip you of your element as well.” He grinned when he saw the anger burning in your eyes. “The challenge that will begin the game,” Ryan spoke without another word on the matter, crossing his legs and resting his temple against his hand, “is comparable to last man standing.” He watched each person carefully, smirking when he saw the uneasiness settle over the group. “Basically, don’t get caught,” he gave a vague explanation. “Oh, and, before I forget, I think that having a queen take part in such  _ barbaric  _ rituals is unbecoming. That being said, Queen Lindsay will sit out this year.”

       “You  _ just _ said I wouldn’t be at a disadvantage and now you’re telling me I’m not allowed to participate?  _ I can protect myself just fine on my own _ ,” Lindsay’s word came out like acid, harboring no hint of respect towards the man who sat before her. 

       It killed Michael to speak up when he knew that his wife was strong and more than capable of taking care of herself on her own, but the way that Ryan’s eyes had narrowed on her made him wary. He reached a hand out and placed it on her shoulder, giving her a hard squeeze. “Of course she will sit out, your majesty,” he spoke through gritted teeth.

       Lindsay’s knuckles grew white as she gripped her spear harder, but she kept her mouth shut and lowered her eyes to her feet. If it took  _ all _ that she had, she would make sure that that bastard Ryan never took the throne ever again.

       “(y/n),” Ryan motioned with his hand towards you, seeming pleased enough with Michael’s submission to let Lindsay’s statement slide. 

       You moved to slide off the arm of the throne but Ryan’s hand on your knee stopped you. He gave you a threatening squeeze over the bruise he knew decorated your skin beneath your plaid pants, where the blunt end of his sword had collided with your kneecap the previous night.

       Kerry, the squire Ryan had chosen to help him with the games, ascended the steps and handed you a burlap sack and a bundle of rope. 

       “You,  _ my dear _ , as well as Kerry and myself, will be the predators, and the five men competing will be the prey,” the king went on, smug tone never wavering as he stood. “Catch a mouse and bring him back to the court,” he spoke, adjusting the armor on his arms, “tie him up,” he unsheathed his sword and held it up, inspecting it to make sure it was spotless, “and go hunting again.” When he looked up, a chilling menace in his eyes, the five competitors took for the gate, running out in separate directions into the forest.

       Lindsay’s grip grew even tighter around her spear, to the point that it nearly hurt.  _ That sick fuck.  _ What kind of game did he think he was playing, demeaning his friends, former or not, this way? Of course he wouldn’t want her to help if this was the kind of game he was playing.

       The Mad King turned to you and placed a choker with a diamond in the center that matched the encrusted hilt of his sword around your neck, like a collar for a dog. “Happy hunting,” Ryan said at last as he descended from the throne walked by Lindsay with a triumphant little smirk. Without another word he headed into the forest after the men. Kerry followed the king, casting an apologetic gaze over his shoulder before he vanished from sight.

       You stepped down from your perch on the throne. You wanted to apologize to the queen but you knew it would only serve to anger her further.

       “What will you do?” Lindsay asked you quietly, through her teeth in case the king happened to be within earshot. She ached to run into the forest after her husband, but she knew that if she disobeyed it would be Michael’s head on the line over her own so she stayed put, the heels of her boots digging indents into the grass.

       “Lindsay…” you couldn’t even meet your friend’s eyes. “I’ll try to keep an eye on him,” you lied, hoping that your voice hadn’t wavered and given you away. You slowly turned and made your way into the forest. If Ryan wasn’t watching your every move out there then you were sure that he would have Kerry keeping tabs on you and reporting back, and you couldn’t afford to betray your king again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as far as the elements are concerned, I'm hoping that I explained them well enough. An example would be a sword that is able to control fire, if that makes sense. Each character with an element has their own unique element and their own unique weapon that they use to control it.


End file.
